Mint Leaves
by Madzilla1010
Summary: A collection of 50 one-shots and drabbles with one word themes starting with Mint and ending with Leaves. Chapters will be no longer than five hundred words. Korra/Asami. Possible one-sided ships. Open for one word prompts.
1. Mint

It hung in the air between them, cool and spicy as Korra tasted its flavor. The freshness of it stung her nostrils and made her eyes water, but the mouthwash vapors that coated the inside of her mouth were welcome.

She breathed in, noting how it subtle it burned her mouth despite the coolness of the air. Once again, a gust of mint and breath fell onto her face and she smiled. Now, accompanied with the overwhelming warmth of a mouth, she tasted the mouthwash on her lips again as Asami kissed her.

The tongue that touched her own was icy and the tingle of the mint rinse coaxed her hair to stand on end. Teeth, just cleaned, pulled softly at her bottom lip and left her to savor the minty remnants of the kiss.

That fresh breath wafted in the space between their lips as Asami said, "Good morning, my love. Go brush your teeth, your breath reeks."


	2. Tape

Athletic tape was being wound tightly around Asami's hands and wrists as she sat waiting in her compression shorts and sports bra. The white and black uniform that left little to imagination was detailed with the numerous sponsors that endorsed the fighter; Future Industries had the largest claim and its symbol- a metal gear- decorated the sides of her shorts. The ripping sound of the coordinated wrappings mingled with the breaths of the martial artist and her trainer.

They enjoyed the routine silently together, Asami sitting and sweating on the medical bench with Korra's healing hands taped the fighter's bruised fists. Asami scooted closer, bumping her bare knees into Korra's thighs softly. The latter chuckled quietly and Asami smiled in response.

Finally, her hands were bound in a glove-like tape job. Flexing her aching fingers and rolling her wrists, she nodded in satisfaction at the result.

"Thank you, Korra." She said, thrusting her fists forward in a jab-hook combination to test her mobility as her athletic trainer moved around her to secure her long, black waves in a braid.

Raking her nails and separating Asami's hair into three parts, Korra replied, "You're welcome, Asami." She paused, pulling the hair firmly away from her face and manipulating it into a plait so tight that it never came out during a fight. Asami assumed that it was a Southern Water Tribe trick. After a moment, Korra said softly, "Remember, you're going to rely on your grappling as well as your boxing if you want to win this fight. Try and get her left arm in an arm bar; she's already broken that one before and it's bound to be weaker."

Asami sighed, rolling her green eyes as Korra let the finished braid drop against the middle of her back. "Korra," she said, "I'll be fine. This isn't my first time in the octagon."

The younger woman stood in front of her again and Asami was forced to look up at the shorter girl for once. Korra's rough hands carefully took Asami's face in her hands and brushed her thumbs along the sharp angles of her cheek bones. Blue eyes searched her face and Korra said, "I'm sorry I worry so much, 'Sami. Just please, make sure you keep your gloves up: I feel so bad kissing you when your lips are bruised and busted."

Laughing, the fighter stood and bounced on her toes once before wrapping her lean arms around her personal trainer's waist. Korra's hands climbed slowly up her back to stroke the dark braid and she looked up at her, tugging on the hair to make sure she had Asami's attention. "Promise me," she whispered, glaring, "that I won't have to scrape you off the mat this time."

"I promise," Asami replied her voice soft but firm. "Now kiss me good luck."


	3. Hair

It was surprising, the normalcy that followed Asami's early diagnosis. It was almost as if nothing had changed other than the fact that her meetings were now later in the day to accommodate her early morning chemotherapy sessions. Sometimes, on bad days, Asami's head –coupled with her thinning locks- would rest on Korra's lap for hours and she would remain in a continually varying state of consciousness.

This new normalcy of Korra taking care of Asami was something that Korra would have never expected. Before this, the Avatar had many opportunities to take responsibility, but she had never become so serious or so invested in a situation. Korra was forced to grow up, to take care of her love, to take responsibility.

One particular day, one in which Asami was once again reclining comfortably in her lap, Asami called Korra's name in a whisper that was drenched with her post-chemotherapy drowsiness as Korra rubbed her completely bald head. Her fingers were gentle on her tender scalp in their ministrations as Asami said to her, "Korra, do you miss my hair?"

And, in that moment, with her hands softly stroking Asami's smoothness and her lap warm from her lover's weak body, Korra realized that she had never even thought about the distinct difference in Asami's appearance. That, in itself, was strange seeing as Asami's waves were considered to be one of her identifiers. The black mass that once curled softly and tumbled in flashing waves down her back was now gone, a result of the radiation and treatment that was necessary to prevent the cancer from reoccurring.

"No. I don't miss it."

Asami's body gave a shudder; she was cold much more often now. Korra wrapped her arms around her as Asami replied with a pout, "Well, I miss it."

As she held her, Korra attempted a nonchalant shrug. "It's not the hair that makes the woman, Asami. I love you for you. Your beauty is just a bonus." Korra smiled and pressed a soft kiss to the back of her head.

"Hair grows back, 'Sami."


	4. Nickname

**Word: Nickname**

**Rating: T**

It isn't so much a nickname as it is a lazy way to get around an extra syllable. Still, you can't help but heat up every time it falls from her lips and lingers in the space between the both of you in the most intimate moments. The word, the name, the endearment conveys her love for you more than those infamous three words ever could and every time you hear it you shiver and smile and find yourself gravitating closer to Korra.

It's just a nickname. But you've never had one before, not even when your mother was alive.

This time when she says it, it's barely enough to shatter the silence that is thick and tangible in the air around you as you lay together tangled together in a clusterfuck of limbs and sheets in the catastrophic aftermath of lovemaking. Passionate, urgent, reckless; sex is always like this with her, only with her.

Despite the end of the peaceful silence, the noise doesn't bother you. In fact, you shimmy closer to Korra as she speaks and you shudder against her as her vocal chords vibrate against your bare skin. The things she's capable of scare you, but it invigorates you in the same breath. You're in love with the power she possesses over you; you know that she'll never abuse it in the way that she says your name.

"You're so… unbelievable, 'Sami."

No, what's unbelievable is how you can become so completely unhinged by the way Korra says your name.

"'Sami, are you okay?"

You smile and kiss her, catching her lips between yours just as she's mumbling her version of your name again. It tastes sweet and permanent on your lips. Suddenly, you have the urge to make her scream it.


	5. Paper

**Word: Paper**

**Rating: T**

**Word Count: 444**

It only took Asami a few weeks of dating to learn that she could not trust Korra to hold or deliver any important document without supervision. Somehow, even if Asami laminated and sealed the file in a secure and bending proof box (which, now that she thought about it, would be a great idea to pitch to the board members), the Avatar would manage to destroy or lose the records.

Korra was all passion and gut instinct; she had no tact and she failed to find the slightest significance in the smooth stroke of the signature. When the Avatar was forced to be present at the signing of peace agreements or the like, she would shake her head and murmur so low that Asami could only hear her voice.

"Asami, I could burn that piece of paper and this entire meeting would mean nothing." Asami's lips would twitch in amusement and in another hurried breath, "One signature. That's all it takes."

Asami would lean in, watching Korra's face as her lips brushed the Avatar's ear and would reply just as quietly, "At times Korra, the pen is mightier than the sword."

/

"'The pen is mightier than the sword'. I never understood what that meant until now, Asami." Korra's voice shook and her tongue swept over her lips to moisten them, giving her time to gather her thoughts. Picking up the brush and dipping the point in a small bowl of black ink, she continued, "One signature. That's all it takes to make you mine and to make me yours."

Asami stood rigid in her gown, unable to feel anything except the ragged breathing that was tearing through her esophagus, watching Korra as she handled the parchment as if it were priceless. Other than the bristles of the brush in her hands, Korra did not touch the paper.

It took her ten minutes to sign her name upon the piece of paper and each stroke of the brush was agonizingly slow as the characters of Korra's name mingled together with Asami surname to officially wed the pair. The black ink was heavy and stark against the bright white scroll as Asami read the characters that were written with a firm and steady hand. Satisfaction burned in her chest and she smiled as Korra set the brush aside and turned back to face her with a crooked smile on her face as she whispered, "One signature."

Without instruction, Asami kissed Korra chastely on her lips and wound her arms securely around her waist. Their foreheads touched as Asami said, "If you think I'm letting you touch that piece of paper, you have lost your mind."


	6. Shift

Asami had grown accustomed to driving with only one hand. In fact, her left arm had grown stronger due to Asami's favor of it.

Her right hand sat on the gear shift in the center console, the Avatar's own placed securely on top of it. With their fingers locked together, Asami was unable to place both of her hands on the wheel which was proper.

The Avatar's clear affedction for the heiress was displayed like this every day that Asami drove her somewhere: Slow Water Tribe patterns were doodled onto her skin, nails scraped across her wrist and forearm, and little squeezes brought Asami's attention back to the girl herself.

When the Avatar squeezed her knuckles, Asami smiled and continued to ignore the proper driving etiquette.

Driving a little less smoothly around the curves was worth the Avatar's hand on hers.


	7. Stagnant

"So, where does this leave us?"

Their walking ceased as the question whispered through the fur lining of Korra's parka mingled with the thick cloud of breath that condensed in the cold air of December. The warm stream of air disappeared into the frozen ground as the question went decidedly unanswered between them as they stood.

There were a million things that were running through Asami's mind that she could say to explain herself. To explain why she would say something like that when all that she had done so far was play the Avatar's feelings like a fiddle. Words beyond measure entered her thoughts to covey her sincerity.

They all seemed inappropriate and ill-equipped in this situation. _I'm sorry. Sorry that I said anything. Sorry that we continue back and forth like this. Sorry we keep hurting each other. _She could say that. But those two words had been said much too loosely and much too often to convey any hint of the remorse and regret that she felt.

She'd hurt, Korra, more times than she could count; whether or not each time was intentional was irrelevant. She'd hurt Korra. Korra, who watched her as they stood on the icy sidewalk interrupting traffic, and waited for her answer.

The wind blew and Asami tried to hide the shiver that passed through her as Korra's piercing eyes looked into her, "You broke up with Mako, Asami. You say it was for me. Where does that leave us?"

Asami tugged on Korra's sleeve, pulling her into a brisk walk as she tried to think of the right words to say. After a moment, a sigh, a stop, a half-turn in the opposite direction, she said, "Stagnant, Korra."

"Until you make a move."


End file.
